Good thing I saw the orcs in the trees. They were just watching the fight, not getting involved, but when I saw one move towards the girl, I had to move. Thirty seconds of very violent action later, every orc is dead and I’m sitting in their campsite.
I get up from helping the wounded guard. He’s still in a bad way, but at least the wound in his belly has closed. I hope he has the sense to rest and not try anything.
“What are you?” asks the woman—no, the girl. She’s barely older than me, if at all. Her hair is blonde and done up in a rather complicated fashion, but its half come apart in the frenzy of the battle. Her skin is pale as cream. My senses smell fear on her, but also curiosity. I open my mouth to answer and she flinches.
“My name’s Ellie,” I say, and I see that she doesn’t understand. I curse inside my head. That Jinx! He gave me what I asked for, literally: the ability to understand the languages here, but not the ability to speak them!
She takes a step closer to me, and the man with the sword tries to pull her back.
“It’s fine, Theo,” says the girl. “Have you ever seen a monster use a potion? There’s something going on here.”
I nod vigorously and the girl smiles. I point to myself and then to her. The young man, Theo, bristles and steps forward.
“You can’t have her,” he says. There is steel in his voice and he holds a torch. That reminds me that I got burned when I leaped over the fire to get the orcs waiting in the bush. I touch my side and feel my scales fall away, burned by the momentary contact with the flame. It hurts, and it doesn’t seem to be healing any time soon.
Okay, I’m allergic to fire. Apparently that is a troll thing.
I shake my head at Theo: wrong. I try again to explain using hand gestures that I’m actually a girl, like her, but nobody seems to understand. The one guard comes close.
“Maybe it thinks you’re pretty, m’lady Soleil.”
Well, I do, but that’s not the point. I give up and sit down. The stew pot is lying on its side, and I pick it up. There’s only a little food left in it; most of it is on the ground. I look at the humans and then at the pot, then pantomime eating.
The girl nods. “Go ahead. And thank you.”
I grin before I remember that my smile is apparently scary. Also I am covered in orc blood, so I probably am not going to be making a good impression regardless. With one swipe of my big palm I sweep out the rest of the stew and eat it. It’s messy but I don’t care. The taste of the food explodes in my mouth and I am momentarily lost in bliss. Apparently troll’s acute senses include taste; I know this is just salted meat and root vegetables with a bit of pepper but I can taste every tiny flavour in the meal.
After I’m done, I gently set the pot down and move away from the fire. The two guards have their eye on me, but they seem more concerned with the injured one, who is sitting up but not yet ready to stand. I wave at him and make sure they all realize that I am trying to keep a distance.
“What are you? “asks the girl again. “I’m, I mean, my name is Marika. Marika Soleil. If you can understand us, you probably know who I am.”
I shake my head. Never heard of you, sorry! To make them feel more at ease I find a ragged piece of orc loincloth and start wiping myself off. The smell is tremendously awful. I am not sure I am making things any better, but the orc blood is getting sticky so I have to try.
Theo comes up beside her. His sword is finally sheathed, but he’s still holding that torch. I can’t really blame him. My gaze gravitates toward it every time it moves. My troll instincts are telling me that fire is bad, and I am inclined to believe them. I guess some lessons I need to learn personally; my side aches.
“Are you cursed?” he asks.
I pause for a moment in my pointless attempt to clean up. I stare at him directly for a moment, and decide to answer. “Yes,” I say while nodding my head. Then I give a thumbs-up, just in case I wasn’t clear.
“See? I knew it wasn’t a real troll. Or not a regular one.” Marika seems suddenly giddy. “Please, sir, can you understand us properly? Nod your head and raise your right hand if you do.”
I do as she asks.
“Now, let’s start there. Nodding and lifting your right hand means yes. Shaking your head and lifting your left hand means no. Lifting both means the question can’t be answered that easily. Does that sound good?”
I answer yes. The guards are now watching me, but they’ve set their spears aside. Theo is still wary, but Marika seems to be charmed by my ability to communicate. I’m feeling pretty good about it too!
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“How long have you lived here, sir troll?” I lift both hands and she nods. “Of course, that isn’t a yes or no. Were you cursed by a god?”
I nod. “Jinx,” I say before I stop myself from speaking pointlessly, but it turns out that it isn’t pointless.
“Jinx! The god of jests and the downfall of hubris!” Theo says.
“I knew it! Now I know you’re a person despite your appearance. Anyone that speaks the name of a god is understood by all. Have you prayed to Verity for relief?”
“Verity,” I say, and shake my head. Marika smiles.
“Yes, Verity! The goddess of homecomings and honesty! Perhaps if we take you to her temple, you might be cured.”
“I’m more interested in that,” says Theo, pointing to my Alchemist’s Bandolier.
I brighten up and hook a talon into it. There is still one potion of healing in its loops. On the way here I found nothing new worth harvesting for ingredients, and so I didn’t make anything else. The fungus material is interesting, but I don’t need a dreamless sleep right now.
“Were you gifted that? Or was it yours to start with?” Marika asks. I lift both hands, then hold up one finger. She’s a clever girl, and figures it out. “The first one? Strange.”
“Jinx rarely curses anyone without granting a blessing. Of course, the reverse is true. So what was it? Is your curse the main thing, or the side effect?”
I hold up two fingers.
Theo nods. “Not at all uncommon. More than any other god, Jinx answers prayers, but also more than any other god, supplicants often wish he hadn’t. Well, I am glad to make your acquaintance, sir troll.” He holds out a hand.
I shake it carefully, afraid that I might hurt him. He takes hold of only two of my fingers due to the size difference but his grip is strong. I just wish I could explain to them that I am not sir troll but miss troll!
“Beg pardon, m’lady Soleil, but all that noise is sure to attract danger.” One of the guards speaks.
The other guard, the one with the injury, snorts in derision. “Danger? What d’you think is more dangerous than what’s standin’ right there?” He waves at me. I wave back. We have an understanding, it seems.
The third guard looks at me, and comes close. He reeks of adrenaline and fear but also courage and conviction. “Sir troll. You rescued us and saved my brother in arms. Can we rely on you to protect our lady for the night?”
I nod, then point to the stew pot. The guard smiles and turns to his companions. “Sir troll is willing to help us tonight, in exchange for a little more food. Let’s feed him as best we can!”
While they set in to cook, I start hauling the orc bodies away from the campsite. Their scent is overpowering me and my stomach is making a strong suggestion: eat them. I shelve that idea for now. I notice something while dragging the headless leader away.
Orc Blood - Fury
So orc blood is an ingredient? I find one of the other orcs and lift it up by the leg. It’s disturbingly easy given my strength. Once I find a tree branch strong enough, I wedge its ankle in a crook and open its throat. Then I hold my pouch underneath it and let the blood drain in.
A couple minutes later I sense that I am not longer getting any more useful ingredients from the body, so I turn to leave. Then I see her: Marika. She has followed me and watched me bleed the orc into my bag. She isn’t smiling but she isn’t frowning either. She looks at my pouch and then at the orc, having from the tree.
I wince. I’ve just undone any good will I earned! But instead of disgust, she’s interested in what I’m doing.
“Your pouch. Is it magic?” I nod. “I thought it must be. It’s so small but you poured so much blood into it. Is it for alchemy?”
I stare at her. Marika is smart as a whip. I nod and then speak. “Create a potion of fury.”
Glass tinkles as the vial hits my scaled palm. I hand it to Marika, whose eyes are as big as saucers. She holds it up to get a little firelight behind it. It is a nasty red colour to my eyes.
“What kind of potion is it? Is it safe to drink?”
I lift both hands. It’s not dangerous but I am not sure what it would do. I take it back from her, pretend to drink it, then strike a scary pose.
“It will make me angry?” I nod, please with her quick wit. I am so glad that the first people I found have someone so clever with them!
Marika seems troubled. I tap the vial in my bandolier then point at her, then tilt my head. “I’ve never seen alchemy performed, but I know it involves a lot of devices and contraptions. Most alchemists are missing fingers from explosions and many of them are crazy from ingesting strange concoctions. But your alchemy seems magical without all of that.”
“Jinx,” I say, as if that explains everything. Maybe it does, because Marika nods.
“The gods are above our ways. If he gave you this gift along with this curse, then he had his reasons.”
The smell of the stew cooking finally overpowers the stench of dead orc. I don’t bother bleeding the rest, nor do I try to eat them. My troll instincts tell me I could, and that they might even taste all right, but I am not that far gone yet! Instead I sit down with the five humans and take a bowl that is small as a thimble to me, and eat their food in silence.
The silence doesn’t last. Marika is full of questions, but most of them need a more complex answer than a nod or a shake of the head. When she realizes that, she switches gears and tells me about herself. It seems she is a noble’s daughter who is to be wedded to a useless son so her family line is assured. But, she says, she knows she wants more. I see the glances she shoots Theo and realize there is something more there than loyalty.
Her guards came into her family when her mother married, and are loyal to Marika over the Soleil family, and so when she ran away, they came with her. Theo insisted on coming to protect her as well. The five of them plan on leaving this country, crossing the mountains, and getting new identification from the guilds in the next country.
I tilt my head. Identification? Using my talon, I draw a box on the ground, then a smiley face in the corner, then write my name. I am trying to draw a driver’s license. Theo nods at it. “Yes, a guild card is like that. It holds your information and your guild membership. As well, you can use it to store currency. The merchant’s guild handles that aspect.”
So it’s like a combination license and credit card, then. I sit back. I need one of those. But can a monster get one? I tap the drawing and then point to myself.
“Can you get a guild card?” Theo says. “Hmm. I wonder if you can. Maybe if we can remove this curse…”
Marika jumps up. “Sir troll! Please come with us to Montcalm, the neighbouring country! I will take you to the temple of Verity and we can try to remove your curse! At worst the priests will confirm you are a person, not a monster, and then you can get a guild card. The alchemy guild will surely want to meet you.”
I cannot wait until I can somehow tell Marika that I am actually a girl!